


Unexpected Reunion

by ThinkingOfTheImplications



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Emma's already dead so it shouldn't need a warning right, Emma's pov, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, My First AO3 Post, Oneshot, POV Third Person, Paul Matthews (mentioned), Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sister hugs all around, They're in the Black and White, idk how to do tags this is my comfort fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23686894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinkingOfTheImplications/pseuds/ThinkingOfTheImplications
Summary: After dying at the end of TGWDLM, Emma wakes up in the Black and White, confused and missing Paul. However, instead of Paul, Emma ends up reuniting with someone she never thought she'd ever see again.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Unexpected Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic and I hope it's okay but I just got this idea and had to write it. It's also probably the first story type of thing I've written that I've finished (outside of school work), so it's good to know I don't leave everything unfinished.
> 
> It's only a one-shot and I'm not the best writer out there, but I hope I did Jane and Emma justice and that it wasn't too OOC!

Emma let out a silent gasp, her eyes shooting open wide and terror-filled, consumed by a horrifying memory and shaking until –

“Wait… What the fuck?!”

As her vision cleared, Emma realized that instead of watching as singing corpses shoved blue shit down her throat in the middle of a hospital hallway, she was aimlessly floating in an empty, white void of space. A short laugh of disbelief escaped her lips as she tried to figure out what the fuck was happening. This probably answered the question of whether Emma was dead but, lucky for her, it was replaced with a fuck-ton of other questions to plague her. Was she in heaven? Purgatory? And did she dare to wish- did she dare to hope…

Was Paul there?

She found herself suddenly struggling for breath and fought to even it out. She was tough, she’d made it out of Hatchetfield during a fucking apocalypse and she’d be damned if she broke down now. Still, Emma would admit that this would all be easier if she wasn’t so alone. Before, she’d had Paul. At least, while the world broke down so easily around them, they had each other to cling to, one comforting the other whenever it became too much. Then, when a ray of hope and relief in the form of Paul slowly strode through the doorway and rushed to hug her, how could she not return his tight embrace? Until he began to softly sing to her, that is. Maybe that was why she couldn’t bear to let herself hope that the real Paul was somewhere in this strange abyss, ready for her. Waiting for Emma to return.

Emma was so focused on Paul and so deep in thought that at first, she didn’t notice a wispy figure slowly approaching. But then it called her name.

“Emma?”

Her name, softly called out, the voice wavering slightly as if uncertain it was, in fact, Emma. Yet still, she recognized the voice, clear as day in her memory. She braced herself and slowly spun around, but nothing could prepare her for what she saw before her.

“Jane..?”

The name hung in the air, barely even a whisper. There was unreserved disbelief in her eyes and her throat had dried up, rendering Emma completely and utterly speechless. Of course, if Paul was here, Jane would be too. But, as it was, Emma was not prepared for such a situation. And she didn’t know what to do – she was scared of going into this unknown territory, and after all that had happened, Emma found that she had no idea of what to say to her sister now after not having seen her for years.

Jane had the same long, dark curls as the fuzzy image in Emma’s memory of when she saw her last, and her gentle eyes were look-alikes to Emma’s except she had a weary bitterness in them where Jane had an unwavering gaze that seemed to peer right into your soul. For some time, Emma stood there, paralyzed, and Jane looked back with a steady eye, watching and waiting. And suddenly, it all came crashing down at once, like a dam finally breaking and submitting to the roaring water. Emma’s knees buckled and she slumped forwards, reaching out a trembling hand towards Jane, who softened and held her slight body close. She numbly lay in her sister’s arms as fat tears slowly rolled down her cheeks.

Oh. She was crying.

Emma could feel the juddering sobs wracking her body, hiccupping a little like she was a child and clinging tightly to Jane as if worried that if she let go, she would leave Emma alone again. It was almost like a massive burden weighing on her shoulders had finally been lifted, and the deep-lying pain (or was it guilt?) aching in her heart was freed.  
She remembered her last conversation with Jane when she was still backpacking in Guatemala, all tension and evading questions. Sorry, she couldn’t attend this next week. She would if she could, but she was busy. Don’t worry, she’ll catch the next one – she promises she will! But they could both hear how half-hearted and weak Emma’s promises and excuses were. When Emma got the call to tell her about Jane, she’d had another excuse at the ready. Instead, she was left staring at the wall in utter shock, the phone slipping out of her lax fingers and quietly thudding against the apartment’s carpet floor. There wouldn’t be a next one because Jane was gone.

The two sisters stayed like this for what felt like hours, just hugging each other. Words weren’t needed. Something cold and wet splashed onto Emma’s nose and when she looked up, she realized that Jane was now crying too. Emma opened her mouth to speak but Jane got there before her.

“I’m so sorry, Emma.”

Emma’s eyes shot up to meet her sister’s, her face crumpling in response.

“What the fuck are you apologizing for?” Jane’s brows furrowed in confusion at Emma’s outcry.

“I shouldn’t have left you or the rest of our family alone, and everyone suffered because of it.”

This shocked Emma to her core – why was Jane was blaming herself? She placed her hands on Jane’s shoulders.

“No, Jane, listen – nobody, and I mean nobody, blames you for this! For fuck’s sake, you’re the least to blame in this situation. I’m the one who should be fucking apologizing!”

“What do you mean?”

Emma’s voice wobbled as she stumbled over her words. “Even though I was nowhere near Hatchetfield when the accident happened, I feel so fucking awful about it, Jane! I wasn’t even there to support you o-or meet your family, and I made any damn excuse to avoid going back whenever you invited me – I fucked up supporting my only sister and lost the chance, hell, I even fucked up trying to survive the damned apocalypse! I was the fuck-up and you were the good, successful daughter that our parents boasted about at gatherings and parties!” Emma paused, now breathing heavily and violently shaking, before continuing in a strangled voice.

“It should’ve been me, Jane.” A sharp intake of breath as Jane looked down at her shivering sister, taken aback.

Emma was met with a barrage of shocked “No!”s and Jane cupped her face with her gentle hands, a determined glare in her eyes.

“Now you listen to me! You are NOT at all a fuck-up, Emma, you hear me? You were just trying to escape a- a shitty home life.”

Emma snorted in surprise at Jane’s unusual use of profanity, understanding that her sister was trying to cheer her up.

“Hey Jane, watch your fucking language or I’ll have to wash that foul-mouth nice and clean with soap!” She teased.

Jane played along and feigned a look of disapproval, her lips pursed in a perfect ‘o’ shape, and she let out an exaggerated gasp.

“What a hypocrite, calling me foul-mouthed! This is simply unacceptable!” She furiously pouted at Emma and they stared at each other for a few seconds before both bursting out into watery laughter.

“It wasn’t your fault, Emma.” Jane murmured. “I love you no matter what.”

Emma raised an eyebrow and quipped back, “Even if I’m bitchy?” Jane chuckled and maintained eye contact.

“Yes, even if you’re bitchy.”

Emma grew quiet for a moment, resting her chin on her hand and crossing her legs. Biting her lip, she tucked a dark curl behind her ear and hesitantly smiled up at Jane, knowing that she deserved to hear it.

“I love you too.”


End file.
